


From Fairest Creatures (we might desire increase)

by rufeepeach



Series: From Fairest Creatures [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Porn, Pregnancy, Rumbelle - Freeform, pregnancy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufeepeach/pseuds/rufeepeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pregnancy naturally changes things about a woman's body, and Rumpelstiltskin is more than happy to admire Belle's new figure when her bras are suddenly far too small.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Fairest Creatures (we might desire increase)

**Author's Note:**

> For my darling iambicdearie because she put the idea in my head in the first place

Belle had known that pregnancy would involve her body changing. She’d read all the books, had long talks with Granny and Snow and Emma, and even read the slightly creepy pamphlet Dr Whale had handed her at the hospital. She was ready for the swollen stomach, the aching feet, and the weird cravings: she even relished the thought of feeling another life, a life created by the love between her and her husband, moving and growing within her. 

What she hadn’t expected was for her chest to swell three cup-sizes larger practically overnight.

Realistically, Belle knew, her breasts must have been growing for some time now, however rapidly the growth might have occurred. It was still hard to believe, standing before her bedroom mirror with her now-useless bra in her hand, that her knew double-D’s hadn’t suddenly sprung from her chest in the middle of the night.

“What in God’s name do I do now?” she muttered, turning to the side and cupping her new cleavage in her hands, feeling the suddenly heavy weight. She’d been feeling tired and ill with the pregnancy in the last week, and had been forgoing a bra to sit around the house in Rumple’s shirts and her sweatpants. She supposed that accounted for the shock today when she had found it impossible to close her bra behind her back. She’d woken up feeling better, and decided to dress nicely and bring breakfast home for Rumple from Granny’s as a thank-you for his kindness this past week. Belle sighed: that wasn’t happening now. 

She eyed her new figure in the mirror once again, her hands weighing her breasts as she blew an errant lock of wild dark hair irritably away from her face. Her stomach was only just showing, and while the rest of her did seem a little rounder and plumper, Rumple had insisted that she was simply ‘glowing’. Belle had never been one to obsess over her own appearance, and she knew it’d be a disservice to Rumple to think he’d find her less attractive now with her extra weight-gain, but it still felt strange for there to be so much more flesh in a place where there’d been so little before.

Belle had just about resigned herself to slipping downstairs and calling Ruby for help, when she heard Rumpelstiltskin stirring in the bed behind her. She watched in the mirror as he reached out for her, and then, finding her side empty, woke properly and murmured, “Belle?”

“I’m here,” she assured him.

“You’re up early,” he noted, sleepily, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes to clear them, “Is something the matter? Do you feel sick again?”

“No, no,” she shook her head, her eyes resting back on her enlarged breasts as she sighed, “No, I’m fine. I was actually planning to go buy us breakfast from Granny’s to bring you in bed.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you needn’t do that,” he smiled, the soft, warm, adoring smile that always turned Belle’s knees to water. “Come back to bed, I can fix you breakfast if you’re hungry.”

“I’m more than happy to be up and about,” she said, trying to sound bright and firm. It was difficult: the warmth in his eyes made going back to bed with him sound like a much better option, especially since his ardour for her had only grown since she’d announced her pregnancy, and he was so handsome all scruffy and soft and lightly mussed first thing in the morning. “I just ran into a problem when I tried to dress.”

He narrowed his eyes at the word ‘problem’ and looked first at her loose satin pyjama set and then at the underwear, dress and stockings on the chair in front of her, and then at the bra in her hand. “You seem to have the issue in hand,” he said, bemusedly, “Unless you’d like me to help you dress, which I’m more than willing to attempt. I doubt we’d make it far though,” he added, with a hopeful grin, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m more than capable, most days, of dressing myself,” she said. “But… Rumple haven’t you noticed?”

“Noticed what?” his eyes fell to her belly, and he raised an eyebrow, “I thought we’d bought out half the maternity department,” he said, puzzled. “Last week most of your looser old clothes still fit.”

“The clothing isn’t the issue,” she said, patiently. “It’s this.” She raised the bra up with one hand, and grasped her breast with the other. “I’ve… grown. Suddenly.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes widened, as her words finally registered and he looked at the small brassiere in her hand, and then her newly enlarge breasts. He suddenly seemed to notice the difference, and his lips parted just a little as she could all of a sudden feel his appreciative, stunned gaze like a physical thing, resting on her breasts in admiration.

“I hadn’t noticed,” he admitted, “I was a little preoccupied with your recent sickness.”

“So was I,” she agreed. “It came as a bit of a surprise just now when my favourite bra wouldn’t do up.”

“I bet,” he murmured, and finally dragged his eyes – somewhat reluctantly, she felt – back to her face. “Perhaps you could remove your outer shirt?” he asked, hopefully, “I’d get a better look at the problem in just the camisole.”

She stared at him for a moment, and then laughed in surprise, “Opportunist!” she accused, and he shrugged mildly, with a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

“I’m only trying to help, darling,” he told her, “I’ve some experience with fitting women’s clothing - a lifetime with cloth and fibre you know. I could likely help with the measurements and save you some time.”

“Of course,” she nodded, completely unconvinced, and quickly undid the buttons on the front of her shirt, letting it fall to the floor so only her loose cotton camisole remained.

Well, it had been loose a month ago. Now it clung almost obscenely to her breasts and then stretched over her belly, and she had a feeling that if she bent over he would have a spectacular view of her new cleavage. Which, she thought, was probably his intention, at least if his slack-jawed, dry-mouthed staring was anything to go by.

“So?” she asked, imperiously, “what’re my new measurements?”

“Can’t tell from this far away,” he replied, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he continued to admire her, his eyes darkening with familiar heat and desire as they tore themselves back up to her face, his suddenly heated look enough to start a matching warmth low in her pelvis. “I’d have to get closer.”

“Hmm,” she raised an eyebrow and tried not to grin as she stepped closer and closer still, until she was right by his bedside. “How about this?”

Rumpelstiltskin gawped openly at his sudden close-up of her breasts before he gathered himself, and grinned wickedly, his hands coming to frame her waist. “Better,” he admitted, and then she squealed as he threw all his weight to the side and pulled her down with him, knocking her feet out from under her as he rolled her onto the bed. He scrambled out from the covers so he could pull her under him gently, carefully, his hands steadying her belly and hips to keep her from any harm. When she was finally settled beneath him, his eyes darted from her eyes to her laughing mouth to her cleavage and back again restlessly, as if unsure of where he wanted to stare next. “Now, this is much better.”

“Rumpelstiltskin,” she gasped, with entirely false shock, “I believe your interest isn’t really in helping me at all!”

“Oh?” he grinned roguishly, his eyes firmly settled back on her aching breasts, and more accurately her pebbled nipples that – quite independently of any thought process Belle herself was having – were craving his touch. “What possible ulterior motive could I have?”

“I can’t imagine,” she replied, and then moaned as his hand came to cup her left breast, his thumb rubbing over the nipple as his fingers lightly squeezed the soft mass, “Oh, Gods…” Belle was rather taken aback by the intensity of the sensation he caused in her just from that one touch. Her breasts had never been particularly sensitive, but apparently that was another side-effect of her current condition: she felt like she could melt there and then just from the feeling of his fingers slowly massaging her breast and squeezing her nipple.

“Sensitive, are we?” he crooned, and she shivered all over.

“You’re enjoying yourself far too much,” she accused. “You’d never have noticed if I hadn’t pointed them out to you!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice suddenly ragged, almost rough, “the moment you wore anything tight or low-cut I’d have noticed. You were so beautiful, so perfect already, but now…”

“Now?” she repeated, breathlessly, as he ran his hand down her side to the hem of her camisole and dragged it up, exposing her rounded belly and her breasts to his sight, and encouraging her to lift her shoulders to discard it completely. His eyes settled back on her chest, and he drank her in avidly, his hand coming to touch her again with heart-breaking reverence, as if he couldn’t believe his fortune.

“Now you’re all full and round and gorgeous,” his mouth lowered to her neglected breast and slowly drew on the aching peak, dragging his teeth lightly over the bud before sucking lightly at it. His stubble scraped at the sensitive undersides, and Belle threw her head back with a low, throaty moan at the overwhelming wave of sensation. His hand came to cup and tease at the other, lifting its weight in his palm and rubbing the tip with the calloused edge of his thumb. He released her at last with a little sigh, and she felt her nipple slip between his teeth, stirring another little whimper from her lips. “All full of me,” he murmured against her skin as he kissed her softly, again and again, his stubble doing marvellous things to her tender skin, “All mine.”

“All yours,” she promised, and then moaned again as he leaned up and kissed her mouth, both hands reaching to squeeze her breasts in tandem. “You…” she whimpered as he did it again, this time pinching both of her over-sensitive nipples, sending a wave of pleasure through her that knocked the wind from her lungs. “You don’t mind, then.”

“My Belle,” he grinned, and kissed the tip of her nose, “Queen of the understatement.” He leaned back and looked down at her swollen belly and breasts, and the smile on his face was so full of utter, true love and adoration and happy disbelief that she felt her heart grow three sizes in her chest. “You’re a goddess, Belle,” he murmured.

“Ah yes,” she replied, teasingly, “the goddess of mood swings and swollen feet.”

He shook his head, softly, “Of beauty,” he corrected, “and love, and everything good in the world.”

Rumpelstiltskin scooted down a little, and she parted her legs obligingly, so he could kneel between them and press a tender kiss to the swell of her belly. He looked up at her with a ridiculously happy smile, and she couldn’t help but return it, grinning so hard she felt her face would split from it. “I love you,” she told him, as she had a thousand times.

“I love you too,” he replied, with the same wonder and utter sincerity he always did, and kissed her again, his palm coming to rest gently on the curve of her belly, “and this little one, whomever they may be.”

“I hope they’re sleeping right now,” she admitted, blushing furiously at the thought, “I don’t think baby needs to see this.”

“Baby needs to know as much love as possible,” Rumpelstiltskin said, firmly. “Which won’t be hard, I’d imagine.” Belle beamed, and, unable to contain herself, took her husband by his shoulders and hauled him up for a slow, deep, loving kiss. 

“No, not hard at all,” she breathed against his lips. She could suddenly feel his hardness digging into her hip, and giggled, breathlessly, “Although the same cannot be said for something else.”

He raised an eyebrow and shifted so that he lay squarely between her legs, and ground his hips against hers. Her eyes slammed closed at the sudden pressure right where she needed it, and he chuckled against her neck as she sighed. “You were saying?”

“That I was wrong,” she panted, as he ground against her again, “I don’t need help putting clothes on, I need them _off_.”

He groaned against her throat and nodded, fiercely, sitting back up again to pull his loose grey t-shirt off over his head so his chest was as bare as hers, and then rolling them over so that she was on top of him, and the pressure was off her tender belly. He shimmied his pants down to his ankles, and Belle giggled at the eagerness on his face as she reached back to pull them off over his feet. He helped her to do the same, and so with a little pushing and awkward tugging they were both naked and pressed flush against each other, chest to chest and hip to hip.

Rumpelstiltskin reached down between them to take himself in hand, and quite deliberately rubbed himself over and through her soaking folds, forcing Belle to brace herself on her hands as she trembled all over in pleasure. “Rumple…” she moaned, bucking back hard on his cock so he grunted in surprise, tensing all over. “Please…”

He finally heeded her pleading and lined them up properly, and then Belle sank backwards and down and he was fully sheathed in her, as deep as it was possible to be without hurting her. She cried out at the sensation, well-known but always a fresh pleasure, always better than she remembered, as he took her hips gently in his hands and encouraged her to set a rhythm that was comfortable and satisfying for them both: slow, deep, and steady, with his hand coming to rub at the nub above where they were joined on each downstroke. 

Belle threw her head back as she rode him, and Rumpelstiltskin seemed more than happy to lie back and enjoy the view. Belle raised her head to watch him, his eyes darting from her face to her enlarged chest to the place where they were joined and back again, and her whole body tingled with the sheer heat and depth of his stare. 

A wicked idea entered her head, and she ran her hands up her sides to her full, aching breasts, cupping them both with her palms and squeezing as he had done, teasing and rubbing at her own nipples as she slammed back down on him. her eyes fell closed, but she snuck a peek down at her husband and saw that he was slack-jawed once more, staring in utter disbelief at her hands as she teased herself, the sensation of her own hands on her breasts and his thumb on her clit and his cock driving deep inside her enough to send her spiralling toward her climax.

She raised herself higher on him and then slammed back down as she squeezed her nipples hard, and that was enough to send her over the edge, waves of pleasure crashing through her as she rode him through it, moaning his name over and over as she came hard around him. As she started to wind down Belle felt his hands grip her hips harder, and he forgot a little of his concern for her as he thrust up inside her once, twice, three times, and followed her over the edge.

Belle collapsed down on top of him, her hips still twitching as she felt him spill himself inside her, and giggled breathlessly into the side of his neck. 

“Well,” she breathed, “I should have expected that.”

He was breathing heavily, and she felt him slide out of her as he cuddled her close, his arms closing tenderly around her as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Yes,” he agreed, “you should have.”

“You promised to help me,” she chided, lightly, “this was the opposite of helping.”

He gave her a sceptical look, but he couldn’t keep the smile from playing about his lips. “You stood by my bed first thing in the morning and played with your own breasts,” he pointed out, “and then pointed out they’re bigger than they were and more sensitive. Did you expect to get dressed and start the day?”

“No,” she admitted, with a sated little smile. “How had I never noticed your obsession with my breasts?” she wondered aloud. “It’s fairly pronounced, you know.”

“I usually only sneak glances when you aren’t looking,” he admitted. “I miss your old corsets. They pushed them up beautifully, and I could stare for hours while you cleaned.”

“Rumple!” she tried to sound scandalised and offended, but it just came out breathy and wanting. He laughed and snuggled her closer, rubbing his face against the top of her head like a great oversized cat. She giggled and cuddled into it, pressing her face to his throat and inhaling his scent. She could have lain like that all day, cuddled close and naked with him all but purring against her, but the effect was somewhat ruined when her stomach growled loudly.

He laughed, and pulled her upright with him, “Come on, let’s get you fed. Both of you.”

She nodded, and pulled away, swinging her legs over the bed and rising to her feet. He was staring again: she could feel it, his eyes on her rounded hips, her breasts and her belly, and he wasn’t hiding it.

“Pervert,” she muttered, fondly, and he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it, causing the butterflies in her stomach to riot.

“Goddess,” he retorted, and she rolled her eyes.

“Romantic,” she accused, and he pressed his hand to his heart in a mock show of offense. “Not my fault I love you,” he muttered, and Belle leaned down to kiss his pouting lips.

“I love you too. Forever.”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, mollified, and his answering smile could have lit up the whole town.


End file.
